His Fault
by Hisa-Ai
Summary: If anyone had asked Nick, it was his fault. If anyone had asked Jess, it was the mugger's fault. But of course, no one was asking those sorts of questions. They were more interested in just what the hell had happened. It wasn't the police's job to give innocent victims guilty consciences, after all. Ness.
1. Not A Date

**So I've been working on this fic for the past month or so and lately I've been playing around with whether to make this a one-shot or split it up into a multi-chap fic. And quite frankly, I've had a hard time finding a suitable ending for this, so I decided to split it up into a multi-chapter fic to give me some more time to play around with it. It's only going to be five or six chapters long and since I've already got four and a half typed up and everything, you won't have to wait _too_ long between chapters. And after you read the end of this first chapter, well... You're probably going to be thankful for that.**

**Also, quick note, this is just... The recent episodes don't count here, just BTDub. Like, this takes place just after "Chicago." Ish. But how awesome was "Virgins?" That was just... Amazing. It was everything I'd always dreamed it would be and _more_ ― one can only imagine how Jess and Nick must be feeling... **

**Anyway, on with the fic.**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own New Girl or any of the characters associated with New Girl. If I did, I assure you, you would _know_. Oh, would you _know_...

* * *

**_His Fault_  
Chapter One:  
**_Not A Date_

* * *

"Jess, I have some errands to run – wanna come with?" Nick asked in his most laid-back tone, half a smile and a cocked eyebrow taunting her away from her book and coffee. Ever since returning from his father's funeral, Nick had been shifting away from his usual self, he laughed a bit more, smiled a bit more, frowned a bit less, and looked at Jess with a certain spark in his eye that made her hungry for _more_. So when he asked her like that, leaning against the counter and looking at her as he played with his keys, it was hard for her to resist his offer. She smiled back at him and pushed back in her chair, marking her page and closing her book.

"Yeah, of course. Just… give me a minute to change." She told him, gesturing at her attire, which, at the moment, consisted of her pink robe and little else. It was a Saturday night and the only plans she had had involved a worn-out paperback and a pot of coffee, so even though it was barely six o'clock when Nick approached her, she had already changed from a flowery skirt and sequined top into her pajamas, matching it with her robe when she decided she needed to be closer to the pot of coffee so she wouldn't have to interrupt her reading _too_ much when she needed a refill.

Winston and Schmidt were both out, of course, and Nick had the night off, so it had just been the two of them in the loft. Nick had been restless all day, flitting about the loft doing a bit of this and that, not really able to sit down for more than a few minutes at a time ― an odd and even rare occurrence for a man who could spend hours just sitting in front of the television watching whatever so happened to flit across the screen on him if he had lost the remote control. Jess had just shrugged it off as him having too much energy, too used to doing things since returning from "Chicawgo", as he called it, and for the most part just gave him his space unless their paths happened to cross. She loved spending time with him and his new mood was certainly one she was found of, but this was the sort of Saturday that just had a lazy sort of feel to it, the perfect sort of day to spend with her favorite book. In fact, if Nick hadn't asked her to go out with him, she probably wouldn't have even left the loft until Monday morning when she promised Cece she would go dress shopping with her and her mother, who was, obviously, in town and helping Cece plan her upcoming nuptials.

"Yeah, take your time." He nodded at her, flipping her book over and reading the synopsis as she power-walked off to her room. He barely had time to finish reading the blurb, however, as she came back out mere moments later, now donning a pink skirt with forest green trim, black lines tracing out the sort of pattern one would find in a challenging coloring books meant to entertain older teenagers and adults, and a light blue shirt that complimented her eyes just so, accented by a crocheted pattern on the short sleeves that cut off just below her shoulders, not to mention the peek it allowed him of her cleavage. He was too busy pretending not to be admiring her new attire to notice the light blue wedges on her feet and the bright yellow bag she was pushing up her shoulder.

If he told her how hot she looked now, how awkward would it have made things? he wondered to himself.

But he didn't tell her that. Instead, he picked up his keys again and walked towards the door with her on his heels, grabbing his jacket on the way out, locking the door behind them, and walking down the hall, his arm guiding her along to the elevator. They entered it and smiled at the people already standing in it, nodding polite hellos as they asked them to push the button for the first floor and then riding in silence, leaning casually against the bar in the back together, hands just _almost_ touching.

They took Nick's car to run his errands. Even though Jess said her car was probably more reliable, he didn't care, he just wanted an excuse not to look at her the entire time they were driving along, and what better excuse than to make sure they didn't drive off a cliff and die?

He couldn't be sure why he had asked Jess to go along with him, other than the fact that A) he enjoyed her company, and B) he thought she could use some, err,_ fresh air_. But mostly the first one.

They made small talk about the weather and their friends and just their lives in general as they drove along, first to the bar to pick up Nick's check, then to the bank to cash it, then the hardware store for a few minutes, then to the dry-cleaners ― he'd lost a bet to Schmidt ― the shoe store, and then the liquor store, and by the time they were done with all that, it was well past eight o'clock and they both found themselves hungry and tired, in more ways than one.

"Alright, I think that's all I have to do today," Nick said, closing his door as he slid into his seat. He had his keys out, holding them in his closed hand as he tapped on his steering wheel, glancing over at Jess as the overhead lights flickered on, illuminating their little piece of heaven as the world around them grew darker, the streetlights just starting to come on. "So… you hungry?" he asked, eyebrow quirked as he planned the rest of their night in his head. They could go to dinner and a movie now since he had nothing else to do the rest of the night. It could be a date if she wanted it to be, or not, if she would rather it that way, he wouldn't put any pressure on her. He just wanted an excuse to spend more time with her in an enclosed space, her perfume swirling about mixing with his muskiness... He liked it.

"Starving, actually." She admitted, smiling at him slightly. She hadn't really eaten much of a meal since rolling out of bed that morning, choosing instead to eat a few snacks scattered through the day and, well, it left her feeling _very_ hungry, to say the least.

"Right, um… Wanna go to that place downtown? The one with the _really_ good fries? There's a movie theater right down the street from there, we could head over there after we finish eating and catch a late movie?" he asked, sticking the key in the ignition as she nodded, barely squeaking out a yes. The ride there was silent, each of them trying to work out whether it was a date or not without having to ask the other what they thought.

By the time they got to the restaurant, neither had quite figured it out ― though Nick _did_ pay for their meals, he quickly explained that he just wanted to thank her for tagging along with him and keeping him company, which she bought.

Until they got to the theater and he let her pick the movie and paid for their tickets, the candy Jess decided halfway through that she wanted, and the large pop that they split. And then she started to question it just a bit.

But no, it wasn't a date. It couldn't have been. Could it?

After the movie was over, they each took a bathroom break and then headed out of the theater. It was almost eleven at night by that point and had gotten quite chilly out. Cursing himself for relenting when Jess suggested they walk from the restaurant to the theater instead of taking the car, Nick slipped off his jacket and draped it around her shoulders, her doe eyes widening as she reached up and touched the edges of it, fingering the zipper teeth as he smiled down at her tentatively. No, not a date, he told himself, walking close to her to keep both of them warm. There were very few people out, but if one of the few who _were_ out had glanced at them, why, they would have seen nothing more than a couple out on a date.

But of course, it wasn't a date, they kept telling themselves.

Not a date.

"Today has been nice." Jess whispered, the chilling breeze threatening to whisk her words away before Nick could grab them.

"Yeah, it has, hasn't it?" he asked, looking down at Jess. So wrapped up in each other, they barely paid any attention to their surroundings ― their fatal mistake, really, anyone would tell them after the fact.

They weren't more than half a block away from where they'd left the car when a voice, gruff and threatening, cut through their bliss and happiness, shattering their not-a-date bubble and cracking their very world in half. "Give me your money!" They froze in their tracks and looked up. Standing in front of them was a guy not much taller than Nick was. He had a bandana tied around his nose and mouth, his dark, short hair sticking up erratically, matching his behavior and his wild, dark blue eyes. The only thing that made them take this guy even remotely seriously was the gun he was pointing directly at them.

"Easy there, buddy." Nick seethed calmly, holding his hands up in a surrender position. If it was just him alone, he might have gotten smart and risked getting shot ― if he was out on the streets this time of night alone, he was probably drunk, and he was stupid when he was drunk ― but since he had Jess with him… Well, he wasn't willing to risk her getting shot, never mind him. Slowly and subtly, Nick eased himself in front of Jess, blocking the gunman's shot of her. If he wanted at Jess, he would have to kill Nick first.

"I _said_ give me your money!" the gunman yelled again, his booming voice bouncing off the buildings and streetlights. Ah, if ever Nick wished for people to be around, it was, well, _now_, but it was latish on a Saturday night, most people were either at a bar or club or at home, not out on the streets. And the people they had previously passed on their short walk were nowhere to be seen now. Figures.

Slowly, Nick moved his hand into his back pocket and removed his wallet, there wasn't much in it, anyhow, maybe fifty bucks ― thank _God_ he had tucked most of the money from his paycheck into the glove box on Jess' side of the car ― a few pictures of his friends that he had copies of at home, an expired ID, and a credit card he'd already maxed out; he could part with the worn piece of leather that had been a gift from Schmidt if the man would just take it and _leave_.

He held it out to the man who quickly snatched it away and stuffed it in his own pocket before he looked over Nick's shoulder at Jess and shouted the same command. Nick squared his shoulders as he saw a look of hunger and lust flash in the man's eyes. He was thinking evil, vile things, Nick could tell, and while he didn't seem the type to try anything ― he was probably just a junkie who needed money for a quick fix ― with an unwilling woman, Nick was still on edge. He would take on a man with a gun; he didn't give a damn, if it meant keeping Jess _safe_.

"Jess, just give him your _damn_ purse." Nick hissed at the frozen woman, who seemed to be unable to _move _at the moment. He didn't know what Jess had in her purse, and he was quite shocked ― yet _pleased_ ― that she wasn't trying to talk the man into putting his gun down and turning himself into the police ― They'd both die if she used _that_ word around a guy like this, that much he was sure of ― but he knew that whatever it was, it could be replaced. She, on the other hand, could _not_.

"Listen to your boyfriend, chicky!" the gunman said, getting agitated that this was taking so long. Jess shook her head, coming to her senses ever so slowly. Her purse, she needed to hand the man her purse so he would take it and leave and they could get to the car, get to safety. And then she could cry on Nick's shoulder about how scared she was as he called the police and they filed a report, and then they could go home and she could finish her book and maybe drink some tea or coffee and fight off sleep and the nightmares she knew she was going to have that night. Maybe if she was lucky, she could convince Nick to let her sleep in his bed with him to comfort her, make her feel better and give her a good night's sleep. But first, she had to hand him her _damn_ _purse_.

"Look, I don't want to have to shoot anyone here, so hand me your purse and no one gets hurt." The gunman shouted, pointing the gun over Nick and aiming it at her. Jess froze up again, however, as she saw the barrel of the gun aimed at her head, one false move and she would be dead. One hand griped her purse strap, slowly sliding it off, as her mind froze up, not sure what it ought to be doing now. She had seen so many movies, had taken so many self-defense classes, had read so many books on this subject, but all that information was lost to her, her brain stuck in the black nothingness that came with her adrenaline rush. All she had to do was get the huge, heavy, impossible to move purse off her arm, and they would be _fine_. All she had to do was ―

_Bang._

* * *

**So I know what you're thinking ― the whole date/not date thing has already been done on the show and blah blah blah. Sorry about that, but it seemed... _fitting._ Plus, it just sort of slipped itself in there, ya know?**

**Oh? What? Oh! Ooohhh. You were wondering about the end of the chapter? Who got shot and all that? Well, I mean ― isn't it obvious? Oh, you're right, it's not. Well, imagine that!**

**I've almost got the second chapter ready to post, so expect it within the next five days, because I still have to edit and all that. Anyway, until then, try not to drive yourselves too crazy with wondering what happened and what's going to happen next. Or do. Whatever floats your boat.**

**Always,  
~Hisa-Ai~**


	2. The Wait

**Hey guys! Sorry I kept you waiting for so long, except not really. Yeah, that makes me sound like such a bitch, but, you know, whatever. Here's chapter two. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: **Dude. Dude. Dude. Just... _Dude_. I don't own New Girl. I fucking wish I did, but, you know, if I did I wouldn't have to waste so many 11:11 wishes on wishing that I did. I'd be able to wish for something cooler, like a tiger. Or no, even _better: two_ tigers. Yeah, has your mind just been blown or what?

* * *

**_His Fault_  
Chapter Two:  
**_The Wait_

* * *

"Did you see the gunman's face?" A police officer with light brown eyes and a thinning head of hair with the nametag "Jonah" asked for what felt like the _millionth_ time that night. It was late, around two or three in the morning, and everyone sitting in the otherwise empty waiting room was tired, worried, and _sick_ of this guy's questions. He was just trying to do his job, they knew, but it was just getting annoying now. After four hours of asking question after question, they thought this guy might give it a break, but apparently, he didn't have a home life, because the questions just kept coming and coming and _coming_!

With a snarl on her face, Cece leaned forward in her chair and hissed at the officer, "Look, Officer Jonah, I know you're just trying to do your job here, but could you give it a rest for twenty minutes? My friend here has been through a lot tonight and we would _appreciate_ a break from all your questions." Her deadly glare was more than enough for a seasoned cop such as Officer Jonah to know it was time for a coffee and donut break. Maybe he'd have more luck once the witness ― they were all just witnesses at three in the morning, after all; let the day-shift guy learn their names ― had some time to process everything. He _had_ been awfully persistent with his questions this particular night, but he just wanted to catch this guy. Attempted murder was all it said on the arrest warrant at the moment, but the way things were shaping up to be, it might turn into full on manslaughter* before the night was over.

"Finally, he's gone!" Schmidt sighed once Officer Jonah was out of the room, slinking down in his chair. He had nothing against cops, but that one had had particularly bad taste in hair care products and it was all he could do to _not_ lecture him on it, especially given the fact that his hair was starting to thin on top and he had done a _horrible, dreadful_ job trying to cover it up…

Don't get him wrong, he was concerned for his friend ― he had been in a state of panic once he got the call to come to the hospital with Winston, rushing out of the loft without so much as running a comb through his hair, weaving in and out of traffic in an attempt to get there as soon as he could, almost hitting a bum or two along the way, but they were in the wrong anyway; when you see headlights and hear a horn blaring, you move, damnit, you don't just stand there waiting to get hit! ― but Winston had told him to man the hell up before they got there, they didn't need him fainting on them in the middle of the hospital. At this time of night, the really sick and injured patients needed the staff, not some white boy who couldn't keep his anxiety and panic under control…

"Yeah ― are you gonna be okay?" Cece asked with a tone of worry. She had gotten the call an hour after the ambulance had arrived at the hospital and had rushed right over in all her middle-of-the-night glory ― Schmidt and Winston obviously in similar attire ― but that didn't matter. Nothing else mattered now except their friends' well-being.

"Yeah, I just… where is that _damn_ doctor? He said he'd be done by now ― do you think something happened?"

"I…" Cece sighed and shook her head, reaching over and pulling her friend to her in a comforting hug. She didn't know, she was a model, not a doctor, so until they talked to the doctor again, they would all have to wait. And the wait… it was _killing_ them. For all they knew, their friend, their roommate, was dying on that operating table and they wouldn't even know about it until it was too late…

"Sshh, don't cry. Everything will be alright." Cece cooed, trying her best to get their friend to calm down. Getting all worked up like this was not going to help anyone, so it was better to just think positive thoughts, as hard as it might seem at the moment.

"You're right, but I just… God, I can't lose… What if… _God!"_

With a sigh, Winston stood up and walked over to the vending machine. Smoothing out some bills from his pocket, he got them all some snacks and drinks, they were all getting pretty damn hungry anyway. As he walked back over to his friends, he pretended not to notice the bright yellow bag sitting in the corner splattered with blood that was in a big plastic bag marked evidence. Why the damn cop hadn't just taken the bag back to the station was beyond him, but it was doing no one any good to see it there. If the cops didn't worry him so damn much, he might have moved it out of sight, but, well, the cops weren't exactly his _buddies_, he had learned that from quite a young age, thank you very much, so he knew better than to touch anything of theirs. They didn't need any more drama right now.

"It's gonna be okay, babe." Cece said again, taking two candy bars from Winston's outstretched hand, she declined the soda, however; she would have to kill herself over the candy bar as it was, no need to throw a pop into the mix, too.

"Cece's right." Schmidt nodded, throwing back an M&M as he greedily washed it down with a sip of Pepsi. Sugar always seemed solved everything at three in the morning, his constant dieting be damned.

"Yeah, it'll be _fine_. These doctors know what they're doing." Winston said, but he didn't really believe the words himself. The truth was, the doctors _had_ said they would be done by now, so the fact that they hadn't heard a damn word from any of the nurses or the doctor himself… It couldn't be good in any sense of the word. They were all thinking it, so there was no need to verbalize it, no need to worry their friend any more than they already were. No need to make this situation any realer than it already was.

~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~

"Excuse me?" The doctor finally entered the waiting room two hours later at five after five AM, his face tired but not grim. Winston shook his friends awake and nodded to the doctor; it was about damn time he come out! They didn't voice their frustration at his tardiness, however, they were more interested in how the surgery had gone, if their friend was still… Well, they just wanted to know if everything had gone well or not. Jumping to their unsteady, sleepy feet, they braced themselves for the news, watching the doctor's face as they awaited his words.

"How did it go?" Winston finally asked, the first to break the dreadful silence.

The doctor ― he had said his name was something Robertsin ― sighed and shook his head, a terrible cold feeling taking over their veins and hearts as they jumped to the worst possible outcome. Dr. Robersin, however, continued as though they _didn't_ think their friend was dead. "I don't know _what_ the hell happened. The bullet was lodged in his shoulder, tearing the muscle tissue and even chipping a part of the bone. It took a while to get the bleeding to stop after we removed the bullet, we would have left the damn thing in, but given the location, the chances of it migrating were too big to risk it. So we took the bullet out and as we worked on the bleeding… his heart stopped."

"Oh my God." Cece mumbled, reaching over and grabbing Jess' hand as tears threatened to spill over from her eyes as she wrapped Nick's jacket around her tighter.

Dead.

Nick Miller was _dead_. A strangled sob escaped her throat as she began to crumble right there in the waiting room, her friends coming closer, not able to believe the news.

"But," the doctor added quickly, "We were able to start it again only moments later. He was clinically dead for three minutes and legally dead for about one minute, though. Lucky for him one of the assisting doctors wouldn't give up on him, otherwise this would be a _very_ different conversation right now." He sighed again. Jess wanted to slap him, though, just because he had gotten her all worked up like that. A wave of relief washed over her seconds later, however, as his words sunk in and their true implications reached her thoughts. Nick was alive and all was well… Maybe.

"After that, we got the bleeding to stop and stitched him right up. It took a little longer than I thought it would, but he's alive. He's in his room resting right now, but he should be waking up soon, if you want to see him. The nurse will show you to his room when you're ready." He finished, wiping his brow as he walked from the room, wanting to duck out and get cleaned up before he answered any sort of questions. That would come later, as soon as they calmed down and saw Nick in the flesh.

"He's _alive."_ Jess sighed, falling into the chair closest to her. "Oh God." She whispered, bringing her hands up to her eyes.

Alive.

Nick Miller was _alive_.

Thank _God!_

"It's okay, babe. He's… he's okay. Do you want to go see him now?" Cece asked, rubbing her friend's back comfortingly. Though she had been strong this whole time for the sake of Jess, she was pretty damn relieved herself that Nick was going to be alright; he was her friend, too, after all. Even if _she_ wasn't in love with him, she did still care about him, and his death would have devastated her as well. Not to mention the damage it would have done to Jess herself... It would have killed her, would have taken her sunshine away from her forever.

"Yeah." Jess nodded her head, letting her arms fall to the sides of her chair. Winston and Schmidt were standing in front of the two girls, maybe standing guard, maybe just waiting to see what Jess wanted to do, but either way, it was nice to have them there. "But, could I… I mean, would it be alright if I…" She bit her lip, not sure how to finish her thought. She wanted to go in to see him alone for a few minutes, but what right did she have to ask them to wait out here while _she_ went in to see him alone? He was just as important to them as he was to her, and _they_, Winston and Schmidt, had known him longer! She couldn't ask them to ―

"You wanna go see him alone, babe?" Cece asked, understanding her friend's plight. Winston and Schmidt looked as though they wanted to object when she nodded her head meekly, but Cece shot them both a look that told them to shut the hell up; if Jess wanted to see Nick alone, she was going to see Nick alone and they could just deal with it. "Alright, go ahead, Jess; we'll wait right here for you to come back out before we go see him ― 'kay?" she smiled softly at her friend as she nodded and stood up, walked over to the nurse and asked her to show her to Nick Miller's room, please and thank you. As they walked away, Cece sighed and slouched down in her chair, letting out a breath.

Everyone was _fine_. Nick was alive, Jess was going to be okay, everything was just _fine_ now.

"Hey, Cece?" Schmidt said, sitting down next to her as Winston slumped down in a chair across from them. Everyone else got to sleep these last two hours; it was _his_ turn now, if only for a few minutes.

"Yeah, Schmidt?"

"How are you doing?"

"It's been a tough night for everyone, Schmidt." She sighed, swallowing slightly. And it didn't matter then that she was engaged and he was still in love with her, they were just two people who had been worried about their friend. She leaned her head over onto his shoulder then and closed her eyes, not caring about the small smile on his face as he stroked her tangled hair. Because at five in the morning, it just didn't matter that she was engaged.

* * *

**Okay, so, truth time: I've had this chapter written out since before Elizabeth came along, so the Schmece or whatever the Schmidt/Cece shipping is called ― I've been a bit too wrapped up in Ness to really notice ― here at the end was written in before I shipped Schmidt/Elizabeth. Quite frankly, Schmidt _needs _Elizabeth in his life right now, not Cece. But I don't think Cece should marry Shavy, though. It's trickly territory, those guys, and I'll feel better discussing it once Nick and Jess get together ― seriously, my OTP being canon _before _the end of the series? I can count on _one hand _how many times that has happened, okay? But, ah, don't even get me started.**

**So, yeah, I killed Nick Miller. _That_ just happened, people. But then I brought him back to life, so it's all cool.**

**To make up for my killing Nick, there's some Ness action in the next chapter. Just a smidge, but enough to make it up to you guys.**

*** = Yeah, so, I did some research and I'm pretty sure they'd get the mugger on 2nd degree murder if Nick had stayed dead, but since he didn't, they're not, but, ah, not my point. I left it in as manslaughter because that word has more of an impact than "2nd degree murder" does. So, yeah, I sacrificed facts and real world accuracy for dramatic affect ****― I don't do this all the time, but often enough that you shouldn't take anything I mention in any of my stories too seriously if I say something and it turns out I'm wrong ****―** If I'm right, anyway; the law isn't my strong point, I just did a quick web-search and am basing my info on _maybe_ fifteen minutes of reading. _Maybe_. If anyone has any knowledge on the subject they'd like to offer, feel free to educate me; I'm always looking to stay informed, after all.

**Always,**  
_~Hisa-Ai~_


End file.
